Collide
by Eira Wynn
Summary: He left her with a broken heart nearly a year ago, but after an unexpected turn of events they find themselves tangled up in each other's lives once more. Fear against desire, hope against doubt; reliving pain, but finding love again.
1. Being Here

**A/N**: Hello McFly fan fiction lovers, here is my first attempt at a story featuring the boys we all love so much (one more so, especially)! It's rather sad and dramatic, but that's all good! It's loosely based on the songs 'Collide' by Howie Day and 'Holes Inside' by Joe Brooks, and you'll find that the events of each chapter is loosely based on the lyrics of the song it's titled after!

That is all. Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Chapter One: **_**BEING HERE**_

_And the wind is blown and cold_

_And I can't escape the tears_

_One for every broken bone_

_And a hundred for all the years_

_- 'Being Here' by the Stills_

It would have been a year ago tomorrow. It was the 14th and a Thursday, I remember; the anniversary of the day Danny left.

I remember praying for rain, or wind, or lightning, a storm of any kind really; any pathetic fallacy by means of acting out the pain I felt. I remember the pain. And I remember the disappointment and the unfairness when the entire day had been clear and sunny – an uncharacteristically beautiful day for mid-April in London, pairing with my uncharacteristically broken heart after being with him for two years.

I remember a lot of alcohol that night, and a throbbing headache the next morning, along with an overwhelming amount of disbelief, pain, and tears. There were a lot of tears.

I remember the unanswered calls, the perpetual ringing. I didn't know what was wrong, where he went, or if he'd ever return, and it seemed, I would never know. He didn't leave behind a note or any message for me to find. And of that I'm not quite sure if I'm thankful or resentful; either or, it wouldn't have made a difference, he was still gone.

I remember what we were, happy, together.

And I remember what we could have been, married, forever.

The diamond ring seemed to mock me as it sat discarded on our... _my_... bed; thoughtful, planned, holding so much promise and yet forgotten so easily.

He left his best friends too, similarly without any word. I had been the one to break the news to the three of them, painfully, and we all drowned together in the distraught.

_What now?_ was a very popular question both personally and amongst the group. Even Tom, the strongest, the leader, the eldest, the one who always held it together, was emotionally thrown and at a loss as to what to do or to think or to feel, much like I was.

But after a bit of time for thought, Tom, Harry, and Dougie conceded that business matters had to be tended to before personal matters. The remaining three-quarters of the band McFly held a press conference after being given a week to regroup themselves. They explained that Danny Jones had left the band on his own accord for personal reasons, also explaining that they will be taking a long needed break. Finally they requested they not be asked further questions.

They missed him – all three on different levels of course; Dougie and Harry less than Tom who had been his best friend longer than the others.

I missed him too, and still miss him now. Dougie says I shouldn't miss him so much and should hate him instead because of what he did.

My boyfriend, my lover; their friend, their brother; the man who walked out on us all – there should have been hate.

But I couldn't, I could never hate him, and the wariness in Dougie's arguments as time passed, proved it to be true for him as well.

They couldn't hate him, they loved him.

I love him. _Love_, present tense.

I sometimes linger on the thought that he still loves me too, after all, we were together for two years, and he had gone so far as to buy the ring, meaning he had the intention in mind... but he left. So maybe it all hadn't been enough.

Danny left me, yet I still love him. I fear the pain, yet I would take him back in a second. This only leaves me conflicted a million times over.

It would have been a year ago tomorrow, if I wasn't here right now, sitting nervously in the waiting room of the Royal Bolton Hospital awaiting an update on Danny's condition. I figure, I had known all along that Danny was here with his family, but I had been afraid to see for myself; it would have only further proved that he'd rather be home in Bolton than home with me. But when his mother called relaying news that Danny had been in a car accident, fear for his life preceded the previous.

But now, I don't know where I stand. Danny had escaped without any major injuries, even though the doctor said it had been a serious accident. A few broken bones and some scratches; nothing that wouldn't heal with time, until he went on... _"The physical and emotional trauma I believe will result in amnesia,"_ he said sympathetically. _"Now, Mr. Jones may or may not remember everything, but I think it would be best if the people closest to him help him out as much as possible..."_

_Amnesia_... That word alone should have driven me away from there; far away from the horrors that were sure to ensue from this turn of events. I would have to remember. I would have to relive it all. Remember and live it, all over again, and no one wants that.

But yet, here I am.

Part of me is begging to go back home because it will hurt too much to relive how we fell apart; I need to move on and forget. The bigger part of me believes that I can never forget, but maybe in helping him remember I will finally find out why he left, as a means of closure. But the biggest part of me knows that I am still here because although Danny is a physically and emotionally strong man, I have seen the sadness and fear plague his eyes far too many nights to know how much he needs familiarity when he's vulnerable.

And, I'm here because I love him and I want to be here.

_Maybe the pain will be less this time_, I think to myself. I know it won't, but still hope it will be.

"Katherine..." a tired voice pulls me from my thoughts. I look up into pale blue eyes and just now notice my trembling hands being clasped firmly by warm, confident ones. "Maybe you shouldn't be here."

I frown at the detection of patronization that is being masked by concern. "Maybe it's _you_ who shouldn't be here," I say a little more harshly than intended, pulling my hands to wrap around myself defensively.

"Please, don't do this again," Dougie sighs.

I know what those words really mean: _"Katherine, please don't shut me out like you did when Danny left... I know you need me..."_

This was true. I hadn't ever needed Dougie more than I have needed him over the course of the past year, especially during those first few months. Living without Danny had been painfully lonely. And though we both knew he could not give me exactly what Danny had, Dougie tried his best.

I hadn't meant for it to happen the way it did. But one night, too many drinks, and an overwhelming feeling of loneliness later, I realized that I liked the comfort I found from waking up next to Dougie, and just being with Dougie. I was being selfish; he was being selfless.

And I couldn't help but feel that he isn't being as honest as he should be, because on several occasions I have ill-advisedly pointed out that he isn't Danny, and he would say he knows and doesn't mind, but I saw the disappointment every time.

I breathe out slowly, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. "I know, Dougie, I'm sorry."

Dougie wraps his arms around me as I snuggle into his chest. Dougie smells like a Friday night out – mint and cologne and hair gel; not at all like Danny's scent of a Sunday afternoon at home – coffee and deodorant and clean laundry. Nothing smells quite like that anymore.

"I want to be here," I say. "But I don't know..."

"Don't know what?" Dougie encourages, stroking his fingers through my long dark hair.

"I just... don't know, Doug," I frown, defeated.

Dougie pulls back and holds my face, placing a kiss on my forehead. Frustrated, confused, and exhausted, I bury my face into his neck, drawing the comfort I need from him.

Dougie whispers into my hair, "Well you're going to have to figure _something _out, Danny is being discharged today."

I nod in understanding, remembering he had gone in to see him, unlike me; afraid to face him. "So, how is he?"

"He's fine."

The question plagues my mind – I need to know, need to know what I have to fill in for him, what I have to relive. "What does he remember?"

"More than we thought, actually," Dougie answers. "He knows where he is, who I am, and that his mum is well over forty..."

I shake my head, "I mean, about me. What does he remember about me?"

Dougie takes a moment, sighing heavily before connecting our lips in a long kiss. I know it's just a distraction; he's avoiding the question. But I allow Dougie to kiss me anyway, as I have allowed him to kiss me for nearly a year, and I still couldn't help but feel guilty – unfaithful to Danny, and unfair to Dougie.

I pull away, and look at the ground. My heart belonged to Danny, it always has. And Dougie had just cleared up that being with me is what Danny remembers, and I'm not quite sure if I can handle everything that comes with that.

At the sound of doors swinging open Dougie and I both turn to see a doctor walking briskly down the hall, with Danny behind him being pushed in a wheelchair.

Apart from being unshaven and his hair having grown, he still looks very much the same, except for his eyes. He looks scared and confused, and my heart aches seeing those crystal blue eyes lost and searching for something familiar. I see the vulnerability.

I am suddenly compelled to hold him, comfort him, and kiss him until he's breathless and there's no more pain... but, that wouldn't be good for either of us.

Then for the first time in nearly a year, my dark chocolate eyes meet with his crystal blue ones and I see them sparkle. He hasn't looked at me like that in a long time and that makes me hurt – he remembers being together.

But he doesn't know that he isn't mine anymore, he doesn't know how we fell apart... and saying that after a year, the pain is still fresh.

I take a deep breath and brace myself, taking in those eyes again, seeing the sparkle falter drastically at my frown.

I definitely shouldn't be here.


	2. Call Your Name

**A/N:** Hi, there. I am incredibly sorry for the unannounced hiatus after the first chapter in August, but life decided to be stubborn and get in the way. Fortunately, I'll be done with high school in the next couple of weeks, so as the summer approaches so does the opportunity for me to write and write a lot! With that I will be making up for lost time. This chapter had been completed for a while but didn't have the time to upload just yet, until now, so here you go!

Last chapter introduced our heroine, as well as a bit of Dougie and Danny; this chapter delves further into the story and into their characters, as well as the introduction of our beloved Tom Fletcher! (Sorry, Harry fans, won't be seeing him until quite a bit into the story.) Anyway, this one's quite sad so get your tissues ready!

Enjoy!

**PS.** I've changed Katherine's name to _Katie_, because it's shorter, sweeter, and of course because of the song 'If U C Kate', which is one of my favourite songs off the album ;)

* * *

**Chapter Two: **_**CALL YOUR NAME**_

_And when you fall apart, am I the reason for your endless sorrow?_

_There's so much to be said, and with a broken heart_

_Your walls can only go down_

_- 'Call Your Name' by Daughtry_

A wise person once said, _"Be careful what you wish for"_.

Sometimes I seem to forget how wise that person truly was, and how well their words fit with my situation now. Given their ex-lover may or may not have reappeared suddenly, only ever remembering being in love, it's still safe to say it applies. A sad resignation of realizing what has happened and what is yet to happen. I feel like I've just clicked 'rewind' on a DVD I've seen one too many times; re-watching the part that always makes me feel so upset that I'm physically ill.

364 days, I have been wishing for Danny to come back into my life, but I never wanted it to be like this. Not to have him back with the risk of losing him yet again, all because he can't remember how we fell apart. I can only expect to have my heart broken, just like the last time. Yes, if I take advantage of the situation I can have him back, but it won't be long until the pieces fall into place in his mind, and he realizes he needs to leave.

So, really, there's no point.

I'm sitting on the bench of the Jones' front porch, contemplating chugging the remaining liquid in the bottle of vodka I'm clutching in my hands. Yeah, it's cliché, alcohol being the go-to solution for anything and everything, but you can't knock tradition.

And yet, I can hear Tom's voice in my head, "_You're better than this, Kate..._"

Tom's been my anchor for the past year, the one who's been keeping my feet on the ground. He has always been my best friend but lately he has had to act as my voice of reason too. I lose my head a lot now, and unfortunately he has to be the one to find it. Tom just knows exactly what to say, as opposed to Dougie who knows exactly what to _do_, whether it is holding me, or kissing me, or…

I sit the poison on the ground and groan, watching a puff of breath escaping my lips into the cool evening air. I look up at the sky. A week ago, it had been cloudy. A week ago, I was still wishing for Danny's return. Today, it was sunny and the sky was clear. Today, Danny was thrown back into my life, not remembering how he hurt me.

Be careful what you wish for? Yeah, ironic.

I hear the front door open and close, and then I'm greeted by a pair of green Converse shoes and a glove clad hand picking up the bottle of alcohol.

"Vodka? That's a little strong for a Thursday, isn't it?" Tom chuckles.

I groan again, closing my eyes, "Yeah, it is."

I hear him sigh in response. Reopening my eyes I see the blonde moving to sit next to me on the bench, fixing me with warm brown orbs. "How are you holding up?" he asks.

"Fair," I shrug. "You know… considering."

Tom nods and stares up at the sky. I can tell he's thinking about something, and the silence tells me that something is Danny; he's just deciding whether he wants to talk to me about it or not. Curious, more than anything, I decide to pry.

"What is it?"

Tom hesitates a moment, shooting me a sidelong glance. I hold his gaze, encouraging and stubborn. I want to hear what he has to say.

"He doesn't remember much," Tom relents, "bits and pieces mostly."

I nod slowly, "Which bits and pieces?"

"Childhood, family, interests, more than expected about McFly..." I know he's avoiding the obvious, so I need to be direct.

"What about me?" I interject. I feel a familiar knot in the pit of my stomach.

Tom sighs, offering me a sympathetic look, "Danny knows what happened..."

So there it is, in my life again, and gone too fast. I feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders, but it's replaced by that physical illness. I can't tell if I'm relieved or disappointed.

Maybe I'm both... I'm definitely both.

I don't notice I'm holding my breath until I feel Tom gripping my hands tightly. I let it out in a rush and look up to see that he isn't finished speaking.

"Katie, he doesn't _remember_ breaking up, he just kind of ventured a guess, sensing something was wrong," he explains.

He doesn't remember. Relieved _and_ disappointed.

"We didn't say anything about it though," Tom goes on. "Figured, it wasn't ours to tell..."

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see what Tom is trying to say. And I really don't want to be in that position.

"I can't do it, Tom," I say, shaking my head, feeling my eyes well up with tears. "I already had to live through him breaking my heart once. It isn't fair to have me remind the both of us how he did it."

"So, what do you want to do then?"

"I don't know," I shrug. "Ignore it? Forget it? Leave it?"

"Do you think any of that that would fix this?"

"No, but–"

"Exactly," Tom interjects. He then sighs, grips my hands tighter and fixes a soft expression on me, "I know it hurts, Kate, but I also know that you don't hate Danny enough to let him go through this alone. He remembers being with you, and not much else."

I take in what he says and I know it's all true. Danny's going through his own kind of Hell right now with his mind out of place, so it's only fair to him. Besides, I saw that he needs me, I saw the vulnerability, and I want to be there for him just like I've always been.

"I want to help him, Tom, I do. I just don't think I can... I'm just... I'm..."

"Scared," Tom finishes for me. "I know."

If only there were a better word to describe it; the thought of having to remind the man I'm still in love with that he doesn't love me anymore, hurts too much. I feel dizzy, and I can't tell if it's a sad or scared sickness.

_I still love him._

I suppress that thought and settle on just wanting to help Danny recover, and maybe find out why he left... find closure. There doesn't seem to be a way for me to avoid it, whether it is because of Tom or my own desire, either way it has to be me.

"Okay," I reluctantly agree, standing up. Turning to look at the front door, feeling absolutely petrified.

Tom places a hand on my shoulder supportively, "I'll be right behind you."

I shake my head, "Actually, I think I'd rather talk to Danny without an audience, if that's okay."

"Of course."

Suppressing the urge to throw up and fighting off the mass hysteria of thoughts in my head, I reach for the front door of the Jones' household, and dive head first into the dangerously familiar pool.

* * *

The last time I was here, there were lights up and a crackling fire in the fireplace. It was warm, very warm, despite the frigid winter outside. The scent of sugar and spice and pine floated through the house, and _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ by Frank Sinatra echoed in the background.

It was my second Christmas together with Danny.

I remember laughter, love, and a feeling of pure warmth that could only come from this sense of belonging; belonging to Danny _and_ his family.

For a moment I feel like I'm walking into that house again, into the time when we were happy and together; when everything was easy. But it only lasts a moment, a moment before the memory dissipates and I remind myself I do not belong here anymore, with this family or with Danny.

I sit on the staircase overlooking the living room that has been tastefully redecorated since last I was here. The walls once a creamy white, now a mocha brown, with black leather sofas as opposed to the old printed upholstered ones that I remember sitting on as I curled next to Danny by the fireplace.

I sigh heavily, placing my face in my hands. It's surprising how truly bittersweet this all is, the happy memories I'm reminded of only hurt more. What isn't surprising is how easy it is to remember our past, when I'm completely surrounded by him.

Danny's house, Danny's sofas, Danny's walls, Danny's stairs, Danny's pictures…

The photograph above the fireplace catches my eye. Danny is dressed in a casual suit, his hair shorter than I remember but still curly, and with him, his mother and older sister Vicky. I guess this must have been after he left; the Jones' Christmas family portrait. Though a smile is spread across Danny's face, his eyes hide something else; they look lost and empty, and his mother and sister too hide a certain tension and sympathy. They look like strangers, far from the Jones family that held the joyful spirits I was used to seeing that time of year.

It's a sad thought that I might have ruined this family's favourite holiday, whatever it was I did to make him leave.

A light touch to my shoulder pulls my attention from the photograph and I look up to see green eyes, rosy cheeks, and thinly pressed lips.

"You can go see him now, Kate," Danny's mother says.

I nod, standing up, "Thank you, Mrs. Jones." The formality feels strange and heavy on my tongue, and she notices it too.

"You know, you can still call me Cathy, sweetheart," she soothes, expression softening.

I shy back a little, shaking my head, "That's okay." The formality, as unnatural as it feels, will have to remain as is, because I don't belong here anymore. It doesn't feel right.

Mrs. Jones reaches out to pat my cheek in silent comfort and offers a weak smile before she descends down the stairs and disappears into the next room. I am alone now, ten feet away from my ex-boyfriend, or my current boyfriend from what little he remembers.

I breathe slowly, unsuccessfully trying to calm the bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I'm anxious, too anxious; I haven't spoken to him in a long time.

It's been a really long time.

I try to control my shaky breaths as I stand here, paler than normal with my fist frozen hovering over the dark-stained wood... I lower my hand, and stare, unable to stop the suppressed memory from pushing to the front of my mind.

This door had once been white...

_I tentatively pushed open the white wooden door of his bedroom to find him, sitting at the window seat, gazing out the window._

"_Hi, Katie," he sighed._

_He didn't have to look to know it was me. It was almost as if he could just feel when I was around, much like I could feel him. Like a connection we were always meant to have._

"_Are you okay, Danny?" I asked as I approached him._

_He nodded, but kept his face turned, hiding his eyes from me. I knew it was because he didn't want me to see how vulnerable he was; he was meant to be the strong one. He always told me he would be there when I needed him, and I always had to remind him that I would be there when it was him who needed me._

_Wordlessly, I moved to sit in front of him. Almost immediately he turned his face even further away from my sight, but not before I saw the tear stains on his cheeks. _

"_Things have been difficult since Dad left," he ran his fingers through his hair and scrunched his eyes closed, like he always did when he was upset or frustrated. "Even after three years I feel like I'm still picking up pieces, because mum can't stop feeling it, especially this time of year. I just wanted it to be perfect for her. I didn't mean to say it..."_

"_She knows that," I reasoned softly._

"_I still shouldn't have said it. I don't want to be like him."_

"_You won't be. You're much too hard on yourself, Dan."_

_He shook his head; stubborn, and unforgiving. Danny had taken on too much responsibility for his family after his father left. He was only nineteen when he did, and it was a rather large role to play for someone still so young who spent a lot of time away from home. Nothing was ever anybody's fault, but Danny felt the guilt like it was._

_I didn't know what thoughts were screaming at him in his head, and I didn't know any wise words to silence them or any revelation to convince him that he is not his father. _

_But after the year that we spent together, I did know one thing. _

_I reached for Danny, took his hands in mine, and whispered, "I love you."_

_It was just three words; three little words that meant understanding, comfort, forgiveness, and stability. I knew him, and he knew me; I was his, and he was mine. That was something we could both hold on to._

_He slowly turned his face to mine and our eyes met. Instead of sadness and a hesitance that I expected to be glossed over his crystal blue eyes, I saw a glimmer, small but just, of relief, happiness, and gratitude. It's what he needed to hear._

_I felt his hands tighten their grip on mine as he smiled genuinely, whispering back, "I love you too, Katie." Then he leaned forward to capture my lips in a gentle kiss._

_For the both of us, just knowing, just feeling, was enough. That would always be enough..._

I push open the now mahogany door and see Danny, settled at the window seat, looking out the window. It's an exact parallel, almost frighteningly so, and I have that physical sickness again. I feel like I've just clicked 'rewind' on a DVD I've seen one too many times...

"Hi, Katie," he sighs.

He can still feel me, the same way now that he could do back then, I wasn't quite sure if he never lost the ability or if it coincides with memory. Either way, I'm not sure if I can do the same anymore.

I take a deep breath to calm myself but I'm put further on edge as I realize I'm surrounded by his scent. _A Sunday afternoon at home... coffee and deodorant and clean laundry..._ and Danny.

It wraps around me like a blanket; warmth, comfort, and security. Even before we moved in together I had grown a habit of stealing his sweaters, sometimes for when I wanted something comfortable to wear the morning after, but mostly for the cold nights I spent alone while he was on tour. His sweaters smelled like him, and wrapped around my body I could breathe in his scent like oxygen and pretend it was him holding me. I always slept better with him.

The memories continue to tug at my heart and I put my best efforts to push them away. I notice I haven't said anything since he greeted me. I should say something. I clear my throat, and then ask, "How are you feeling?"

He shrugs, refusing to turn his head in my direction, "Okay, I guess."

I'm aware that I'm resisting the desire to be near him, placing myself as far away from him as possible. Lingering in a distance, yet I yearn to be closer. If this were two years ago, I could satisfy that desire, and in a heartbeat he could be in my arms.

If this were two years ago, I could stroke his hair and tell him everything will be okay.

If this were two years ago, I could kiss him until the sun comes up.

If this were two years ago, I could look into his eyes, say '_I love you_' and have that be enough...

But it's not two years ago, it's today, and today is different. Whatever any of that had meant to either of us has changed, and those three words aren't enough anymore.

"Katie?"

Danny's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I realize he's been talking. I raise my head up to see that he's looking at me, eyes boring into mine, and I feel hypnotized. Fighting the urge to be closer to him suddenly became a million times more difficult. And there's a new sensation. I feel, naked, under his gaze. I'm overexposed and he can see right through me, or he can hear my conscience screaming at me in my head to go to him. He's calling me.

There is a question in his blue eyes, and a sadness that comes from having lost something; I'm certain there's a fear in my hazel eyes, and a sadness that comes from having lost something. For him, it was his lover and his memories, all the things he once knew. For me, it was my lover, and the ability to forget.

He breaks the contact, looking down at his hands. As the trance relinquishes, I remember to breathe.

"Um, yeah," Danny says, hiding his face from me again. "I was asking, if you broke up with me, or was it the other way 'round?"

Remembering that this is the reason why I'm here, I find my voice to reply, "It was the other way around. You left me."

I ignore the sting that those words have on my heart, because answering his other questions won't be any easier.

"I left?" Danny questioned, I note the unpleasant surprise in the tone of his voice. "Why?"

I sigh, "You never said."

There's silence again, and the tension in the air is suffocating. He opens and closes his mouth, several times, seemingly trying to find the right words to say. I can do nothing but wait. I'm at the mercy of his memories... or lack thereof.

"Do you hate me?"

It's almost inaudible, but it reaches my ears and breaks my heart. A question, barely a whisper, of a man who's lost, and he's _my_ Danny again. I'm already seated in front of him before I realize I've moved; he's been calling me this entire time, and now I'm here.

I'm still a distance away, at least an arm's length, but just close enough.

"I don't hate you," I answer him softly. "I could never hate you."

"But I left you," he shook his head. "_I_ would hate me."

"That's because you're much too hard on yourself, Dan," I'm speaking before thinking, and I immediately regret it. He lifts his gaze to mine, he notices too. I'm talking to him like I used to; the scene playing like it once had.

Danny leans forward, "Why are you with _him_?"

There's hostility in his voice as he mentions Dougie, and rightfully so, but it's dangerous now. I'm too close.

"I had to move on, Danny," I say, flustered. "You'll understand when you remember."

He frowns, shaking his head, blue eyes glossing over, "I love you."

_I love you too..._ No, I'm much too close.

I sigh in frustration, "Don't say that."

"It's what I know."

"It's what you _remember_."

There's silence again as my words echo between these the four walls. The tension is dark, and thick, and there's far too much electricity; this room feels like a storm cloud.

I need to leave. I stand up, "Maybe I should go–"

"How long ago was it?" Danny interjects.

I shake my head, "Danny, please..."

"The sooner I remember, the sooner we can be out of each other's lives, yeah?"

I retreat at his bitterness, and settle. I take a deep breath, and remind myself why I'm still here.

_You want to help him, Kate, he's going through a lot. He needs you, and you want to be here for him... and you love him_.

I groan inwardly, ignoring that last thought as I sit myself down at the foot of his bed, keeping myself in my own bubble. Let's get this over with.

"It was about a year ago," I reply.

He nods, "And how long have you two been... involved?"

"Almost eight months."

"Did I ever speak to you afterwards?"

"No, never saw you either."

When the silence comes again, I welcome it and take the moment to recollect myself, feeling the tension thinning.

"Did you still love me... when I left?" Danny asks. There's no longer any hostility or bitterness, but defeat, and it radiates off of him.

I want to correct him and say that I still love him_ now_, but that wouldn't do much to help the situation so I decide against it. "I did."

He runs his fingers through his hair and scrunches his eyes closed, "I don't remember a lot, I just remember being with you, Kate, I'm sorry."

_He remembers being with you, and not much else..._

Tom's words echo in my mind, and I feel guilty, but there is very little that I can do.

Danny stands up and sighs, "Yeah, maybe you should go, it's getting late."

"Are you sure?" I'm surprised by his sudden resign.

"Yeah of course, you've helped enough, and you shouldn't keep _Dougie_ waiting..." he catches my eye, as if observing my reaction to him saying my new boyfriend's name out loud.

"Danny..." I feel compelled to say something, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what.

"It's okay," he assures. "After all, despite what I remember you aren't mine anymore."

I know those words make him feel like his heart is being torn to pieces, because that is how it feels for me. He's defeated and hurting and I can't do anything to fix it this time. I've shattered everything he thought he knew because he can't remember how he broke my heart.

I've lingered in this space for too long. I get up and head for the door, when I'm halfway out I stop and turn back to look at him one last time. There's an apology on his face, and it's ridiculous because I'm conflicted again. His eyes look impossibly bluer while glossy and he's smiling, small and trying, but effective. I want to hit him, I want to cross the distance, slap him across the face and leave. But there's a fine line between crossing that distance to hurt him, and crossing that distance to kiss him.

I want to leave, and I want to stay, but there's no possible way for me to do both... The right choice is to leave.

"Goodbye, Danny."

He nods, "Bye, Katie."

And with that, I half-heartedly step out and close the door.

I feel numb when I'm walking down the stairs, and I barely notice Tom waiting at the bottom.

"How did it go?" he asks.

I don't answer.

"Katie," he says uneasily. "Is everything alright?"

I stare at him, opening and closing my mouth several times, and I realize my lost voice is due to my inability to answer that question.

_Is everything alright?_

I honestly don't know. This was meant to be closure, wasn't it? So, then why don't I feel... satisfied? Resolved? Happy?

I turn to see Dougie standing off to the side, concern written all over his face. He looks dishevelled; he's wearing a hoodie, his stubble has grown, his blonde hair is all over the place. He's an absolute mess... and it's hopelessly sexy.

Oh Dougie... I need you...

I cross the foyer and close the distance between us, taking his lips and breathing him in. He responds immediately, wrapping his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer.

I feel decidedly miserable in every respect, but I continue to kiss him in hopes that it keeps my conscience quiet. And now, I feel like I want to cry, because I'm trying really, really hard, not to imagine that I'm kissing Danny instead. That wouldn't be fair to Dougie, or to myself.

It's not until I start smelling a Sunday afternoon that I realize I'm not trying hard enough.


End file.
